Once upon, a mistletoe,
had a fit and went to Rome;
That summer was called the season of doom,
left, right and centre everyone crashed,
into love, there was no choice, no respite;
Many hearts broke afresh,
to see thier loved one's undying quest;
they found love anew,
and bid thier past adieu;
The mistletoe came to its sense
lay in bed all night, extremely tense;
decided to stay back in Rome,
one city is enough harm done.
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